A Fire's Light
by Lothm
Summary: Set in the early stages of the Companions questline. Stana had brought back the first fragments of Wuuthrad, and there was mead and feast aplenty. Later in the night, she noticed that Vilkas was missing, and found him out watching the stars. A small slice-of-life fragment.


Jorrvaskr was brightly lit tonight. Stana had brought back the first fragments of Wuuthrad, and there was mead and feast aplenty. It was nice to be counted as one of the group; Stana had never really been part of any group before. Being Dovahkiin made her feel separated from the rest of humanity, but she enjoyed the company the Companions provided. She did not speak about her great deeds, or of her great destiny, and was content to just be in this moment. She turned away when Aela stood to make a speech, giving praise too great for such a menial task and the others laughed at Stana's humility. Stana liked Aela, and greatly respected her judgement, but she placed too much value on things like honour and glory.

Later in the night, when the merriment had calmed and the fire had turned to coals, Stana was no longer the centre of attention; this she was grateful for. She had no want of fame or glory, even from friends. She noticed that Vilkas was missing and frowned. So when Athis began a story of one of his escapades in Blacklight, she carefully removed herself from the table and moved quietly to the back door, which she slipped through without a sound.

Ah, there he was.

Vilkas sat on the steps outside the eaves of Jorrvaskr by himself. He didn't notice Stana exit the mead hall. She wasn't really too sure if she should say anything but she figured it might be a bit creepy if she stood there in silence without his knowing.

"Beautiful night out," she quipped.

Vilkas started and quickly turned – it was clear that he was previously deep in thought – and upon seeing it was Stana, stilled. He looked away before turning back.

"It is."

Stana moved to his side. "Do you mind if I sit?"

"Go ahead."

She took a seat next to him, leaving about a yard between them. There was a long moment of silence between the two. Stana looked at the cloudless sky.

"The stars in Skyrim are very different to where I'm from," she said quietly. "They shine with much more intensity."

"Where are you from?"

Stana wasn't expecting Vilkas to acknowledge what she said. It was a general statement more than anything. Nevertheless, she shook her head.

"Down south. I'd prefer to leave it at that, if you don't mind." She sighed inwardly as Vilkas frowned. 'South' left a lot unanswered in Skyrim.

"Why are you here?" This was not a friendly question.

Stana smiled grimly. "Here, now, or here in general?"

"Both would be good."

She sighed. "I might be 'new blood' here but I've been playing this game for a long time." She laughed in her mind at the pun in her statement. "I've been all across Tamriel, and I've done some things I'm not proud of. Skyrim… Skyrim is a new start for me."

"You don't strike me as the 'warrior' type."

"I'm not," Stana admitted. "I'll be honest; I've done my fair share of thieving and assassination. Heck, I'm probably going to do more. But… Times are 'a changing. Things are happening in Skyrim that… Need my attention."

"I am assuming that the Civil War might catch the attention of an Imperial."

She chuckled. "Did it catch your attention, as a Nord?"

Vilkas acquiesced, raising his eyebrows. Stana smiled.

"Look, I know you don't like me very much," Vilkas opened his mouth to say something but Stana continued. "And I don't expect you to like me. But I need this. People to talk to. Because I came to Skyrim alone, and Lord help me, I'll leave it alone as well."

There was another long moment of silence. Stana admired the Aurora Borealis.

Vilkas sighed. "I'm sorry for talking down at you."

Stana looked at him. "Don't be sorry; we're all protective of our families. I admire that in you. Farkas is lucky to have you as a brother."

The man smiled. Stana smiled back. They had reached a sort of understanding, and for now, she was satisfied.

She inhaled deeply before standing, placing her padded feet underneath her, smooth as a Khajiiti assassin. The dagger at her hip flashed in the moonlight.

"Are you leaving now?" he queried.

"I'm afraid so," she said, softness in her voice. "By the time I get to Ivarstead it will be morning. I, uh… I have a meeting to attend."

Vilkas' eyebrows met but he didn't say anything to press the matter. "Will you be coming back?"

Stana turned. "Maybe," she said fondly. And, like a shadow, she left.


End file.
